Intertwined
by MadWithMusic
Summary: Two boys met on the beach during the spring and what starts out a quick fling, quickly turns into something more. Told from Cas's POV.
1. Chapter 1

_Dean._

He had golden hair, green eyes, and _God_ so many freckles. So many little tiny freckles, that I at some point made my goal to kiss every single one of them. I liked to run my hands through his hair, even if it was kind of hard to do since it was sorta short. Other times, I enjoyed seeing how many times I could kiss him before he woke up and asked me what the hell I was doing. My record was 57. I still want to beat that. I know I can.

Dean came from a rough past, so I figured that's why he was the way he was. He was...troublesome at times, but I wouldn't have changed a thing about him either way. Under all the douchebaggery and dickiness that I saw so often, he was still really nice and sweet and loving. And that was nice, but maybe I liked the asshole part of him, too. In fact, maybe I loved it. It's what really made him stand out from the other boys. They at least had _some_ manners. Dean never really said 'please' or 'thank you' much. Well, there were some exceptions, but those are exceptions I found very sexy. And he _hated_ apologizing. Apparently apologizing must kick you out of the 'macho and manly club'. But in my opinion, if apologizing is deemed unmanly, then I don't know how the hell he lived with himself having sex with guys. I guess things didn't count with me. As long as it was just him and me and no one was watching, he could be as sweet as he wanted, and apologize for everything.

Dean's parents divorced when he was young. His dad stayed in California and his mom went back to live with her family in New York. Each parent got equal custody. Dean would spend the spring and summer with his father and fall and winter with his mother. Since Sam – Dean's younger brother – was still nursing, Mary got full custody of him, but allowed John to visit him and talk to him freely if he wished. By the time Dean was 8, his dad had remarried and had another son – Adam. Dean didn't like Adam too much. Yeah, he was family, but after Adam was born, their father and his wife seemed to forget about Dean. John would take Adam to baseball games and concerts – things he never really did with Dean. And since Mary was so busy raising Sam, Dean didn't really talk to her much when he wasn't living with her, so he was really alone and had no one. I suppose he wanted attention or just to be acknowledged and I felt for him. I knew what it was like. The only difference is, I knew what it was like to be ignored by kids at school. This was his own family that couldn't' give a shit about him.

Dean acted like it never got to him – like he didn't have feelings, but I knew better than that. I saw the anger and envy in his eyes when he was with Adam, and the way he'd light up with pride when he was talking about his 'baby brother', even though when I met Dean, Sam was 13 and nowhere near a baby. I, personally, didn't appreciate the way that John treated Dean, ignoring him like he was never there, but Dean still adored the man either way. He wasn't too fond of his step-mother though, but he didn't hate her. She was still good to him and treated her like one of her own. Dean thought that John just didn't like him because he was a reminder of his failed marriage.

I'd like to say that I don't understand how someone could not like Dean, but I could completely understand. I didn't like him the first time I met him myself. He had what most people call a 'chip on his shoulder'. And a large one. I tried my hardest to overlook it. He meant well. Sometimes. Other times he was just a dick, but aren't we all at some point?

Golden hair. Green eyes. A fuckton of freckles. I couldn't have asked for a better summer.

* * *

A/N: Oops! I started a new story didn't I? I had a really long car trip and it popped in my head and it wouldn't leave me alone. Fuck. But it's told from Cas's POV and stuff. AND OMFG GISHWHES. IM SO EXCITED AND SCARED AT THE SAME TIME. *SQUEAL*


	2. Chapter 2

_The first time I met him, I thought he was an ass._

"Go long!" I heard a boy yell from some place on the beach.

"Shut up!" I groaned into my arms, folded beneath my head. "Some people come here for peace. Jesus Christ..."

"What kinda throw was that?!" Another boy replied. "You throw like a girl!"

"Nothing wrong with the female kind..." I muttered to myself. "Rosa Parks and Harriet Tubman were a few of the most integral people in the racial equality movement and they were women."

"You think you could do better? Bitch!" The first boy challenged.

"Hell yeah I could! Watch out asshat!" The second boy answered.

"Ugh." I scowled. "Those two are like small children. Won't someone shut them up?"

I saw the boy throw the football across the beach out of the corner of my eye and it soared the air, finally hitting the ground yards behind the other kid.

"Yeah. He was better. Asshatt." I mused.

"You think you're cute don't you!" The original boy growled as he ran to get the ball.

"In fact, I kinda do."

"You're kinda right." I hummed, lifting up my head to get a better look at him.

Just as I lifted my face up, the ball was flying through the air and the cute one was running to catch it. I watched nonchalantly as he caught up to it, and finally catching it. Right in front of my face, kicking sand all over my back and face.

I grimaced and coughed, spitting the sand out of my mouth. "Watch where you're going, assbutt!"

He looked at me for half a second before returning back to throwing the football.

"Dick..." I sighed, wiping the sand off my face with one of my hands, before lying back down.

[-]

After a while, someone ran by me and paused. "Is that you under there, Castiel?"

I immediately recognized the voice. "Hello, Anna."

"There's sand on your back you know?"

"How the hell wouldn't I know? Those two assholes playing with their god damn football kicked it on me." I grumbled.

"Well you don't sound to overjoyed about that." She retorted.

"Of course I'm not. Now I can't reapply tan lotion without rubbing sand all over myself. Who would be overjoyed about that?" I scoffed.

"I was being sarcastic." Anna said.

"Give me some warning at least. You know I'm bad at sarcasm." I stated.

"Anyways. Those _assholes_ over there are super cute you know." She sang.

"Mazel tov. Go get laid." I snorted.

"I already have a boyfriend and you know that." She replied.

"That doesn't mean a thing. My last boyfriend cheated on me." I frowned.

"Good partners don't do that. Crowley was trash." Anna huffed.

"Trash or not, I loved him. He broke my heart. Simple as that." I shrugged.

"See? You should go have some fun then. You deserve it." Anna nudged my foot with hers.

"Yeah. Sure. You know I don't like assholes." I chuckled.

"Cas, all of your recent boyfriends have been assholes. I think assholes are your type, not your turn off." She smirked.

"Shut up." I smiled. "I can't help it all my boyfriends turn out to be giant dicks."

"Well who cares about those two. Go hit that. Or both. That'd be awesome." She chided.

"Even if I did want to sleep with one of them, just look at them. There's no way in hell that they're queer." I commented.

"I think your gaydar is malfunctioning." Anna scoffed. "Do you know how many times the blonde one has checked out the other guy's junk just within the few minutes I've been standing here?"

"Maybe you're right. Maybe you're wrong. Either way I really don't care. I'm not in the mood."

"Not in the mood?!" She exclaimed. "How can you be not in the mood for a rebound lay?"

"Because I'm hot, sandy, and uncomfortable. That's why." I answered.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "I'd still hit that if I were you."

"Hit it yourself." I grumbled.

"Boyfriend." Anna sang as she bounced off and continued running.

"Don't care!" I responded in the same tone, before laughing. My gaze slowly drifted to the cute, blonde boy from earlier, throwing the ball across the sand. My eyes drifted up and down his figure for a few moments, then I laid back down. "Yeah. I'd probably hit that..."

[-]

It wasn't long after that, the blonde boy skidded across the beach and once again, kicked sand all in my face.

"I said to watch where you're going!" I scowled.

"Sorry, man." He replied with a laugh.

"No you're not." I mumbled, wiping the sand off the side of my face.

I sat up for a few more moments and brushed the sand from my towel, bitterly glaring at the blonde, smugly smiling as he kept on throwing the football way over his friend's head.

"I swear to God. If he gets any more sand on me, so help me, I will break his neck." I thought to myself, running my hand through my sandy hair, returning to lying on my stomach.

[-]

I thought that those two idiots playing catch or whatever the hell they were doing had moved somewhere else, but apparently, they hadn't. Because twenty minutes later, the bronze-haired boy previously causing me all the sandy trouble ran to catch the ball and did catch it, but only after sliding into the ground next to me.

"Thats it!" I snapped, whipping my arm out and grabbing his leg.

"Dude! What the hell! Let go of me!" He scoffed.

"No." I said.

"Seriously! Get the hell off me!" He yelled.

"I said, _no_." And with a violent tug of my arm, I pulled him to the ground next to me.

I brushed a fallen hair behind my ear before turning towards him and pushing my sunglasses down ever so slightly.

"Listen." I started coldly. "Leave _me _alone. You have kicked sand in my face three times now. I came to the beach to relax and be in peace, not to be harassed by 12 year olds playing with their little toy ball."

"I'm sixteen." He corrected.

"And I don't care." I smirked bitterly. "So let me put this simply. You get one more grain of that sand on my face or anywhere near me, I will hit you. Hard, bitch. And if that doesn't get the message across, well I'll just have to tell your friend over there how gay you are for him."

"Excuse me?" He choked.

"It's tragic, but so cliché isn't it? Gay boy falls for the attractive straight boy who they both know would never think of the former as anything but a dear friend. Only difference is your straight friend's not attractive. He's ugly as fuck. If I knew him, I'd finance his nose job."

"Excuse me?" He repeated.

"Are you dumb or something? Because listen here, _sweetcheeks_. I don't give a fuck about you or him or your feelings. I give a fuck about myself. I give a fuck about myself not having sand on me. Get it?" I replied.

"Are you trying to be intimidating?" He snorted.

"Honey, I don't have to try." I smiled with a sigh, pushing my glasses back up with one finger and turning back towards the ground.

[-]

Needless to say, I didn't get a speck of sand anywhere on me the rest of that afternoon.

* * *

A/N: THE WIFI HERE IS SHIT. Like this was on my cpu for a day. Ugh. Just uploading it now is taking forever. I'm living off mcdonalds wifi and my moms flip phone. It's making GISHWHES very hard. (harder)

Speaking of GISH, y'all shoudl go reblog the post on my blog about IDGHP. It's not a funny one, but my team did "I'm Definitely Gonna Help People!" and yeah.

And omg GISHWHES is so fucking intense. Like I feel dead inside already.


End file.
